


Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent

by sovereign thunder (old_gods_of_asgard)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Domestic Violence, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Semi-Canon Compliant, Sexual Content, Violence, alternate character history, hinted/suggested non/dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_gods_of_asgard/pseuds/sovereign%20thunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows Tendo's got a shady past, but only a handful know that includes almost three years spent with Hannibal Chau. Even fewer know that that past included time spent as Hannibal's sweetheart. But now Hannibal's back, and he knows where Tendo is - and he's not about to let Tendo escape him a second time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a fill for a prompt on the kink meme:  
> http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2186573#t2186573.  
> This ended up growing bigger than I intended so it'll end up being about 5 or 6 short chapters. As always, un-beta'd, so if you guys see any mistakes let me know, please.

Tendo met Hannibal when the latter was 21 and living out of his car on the edge of a refugee camp. Oakland was gone, Sacramento was gone, and San Francisco was _fucking gone_. Tendo’s grandfather was dead, and he had no job. There wasn’t anything for him to go back to; every article of clothing he owned, every record, every family heirloom was gone. Tendo had nothing left and no one who would care if he went missing.

For the first three weeks, he slinked around on the edges of the “danger” area. He hadn’t been alone, either, because when families took off in those first few weeks they left a lot of stuff behind. Clothing, food, money, valuables – Tendo took what he could dig up and moved himself on as quickly as he could. He’d been a fairly good kid growing up and a decent enough student, he knew better than to get in trouble with any group that had stuck a stick in the mud and called the area their turf.

Except, Tendo was also broke as hell. It didn’t feel right to raid abandoned shops and homes and sell what he couldn’t use, and it wasn’t comfortable living out of his car and driving to the next temporary home. Almost everyone else he met lived the same way, those lucky enough to escape. It didn’t take long for someone to mention government aid camps sprouting up in places like Los Angeles.

Tendo didn’t want to be stuck there, but fuck, he didn’t have a _choice_. And now he wasn’t having any luck trying to dig himself up a job because everyone was trying to earn dosh in the same ways: selling their belongings, joining rescue crews who planned to wade their way to the remains of the cities that hadn’t been wasted all to hell, snatching up the few low-pay clean up gigs offered. Legit jobs were impossible to come by, and Tendo was too tired of robbing and too scared to whore himself out. This realization was what lead him to taking the job that lead him to Hannibal.

He was sitting on a milk crate outside of his car when a tall, slim man made his way up to where he was at and crouched down. “Yo, you know anything about computers?” Tendo snorted at the question, it was that fucking random. “Some kid said you helped him with his shit.”

“I’m not bad at it,” Tendo replied, which was a damn lie because he was nothing if not exceptional at technology. “Why?”

“You want a job?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” But Tendo sat up a little straighter and leaned forward a little bit. “What’s the gig?”

The man scratched at the back of his neck. “I, uh,” he gave a quick glance around. “I’m working with this guy, scary motherfucker named Chau. He says he’s trying to get a business up.” Tendo raised a brow. “You know. Doing, uhm. Drug stuff.”

“Drug stuff.” Tendo echoed, realization dawning on him. Shit, shit, shit _shit, **shit.**_ Yeah, of course it couldn’t be anything safe or legitimate or just not illegal. Tendo didn’t know what computers had to do with it and he didn’t know _anything_ about making drugs, and he said as much.

“Oh, yeah, no. I don’t expect you to, not right now, I mean, I can show you, if you want. I know what to do. But you wouldn’t be cooking or making or anything. Just, it’s just me, and Chau, and a couple of others right now – we don’t exactly have an empire.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “We’re just trying to make a buck. People just need a little something every now and then, to relax.”

Tendo thought it over, but he didn’t think about it long. Eventually, the raiding bullshit was gonna come to a stop and he needed something a little more long term. He wasn’t joining a gang, just helping cook some shit up; how bad could it go? Stolen clothes and junk food weren’t going to be there forever. He stood up and dusted himself off. “Alright. Alright, yeah, I guess.”

The guy beamed at him and held a hand out. “Jesse,” he said, as Tendo shook it. “You’re…Tinder? Tonka? Tiberius-”

“Tendo,” the smaller man corrected. Jesse just nodded and moved his hand up to Tendo’s elbow, giving it a squeeze and starting to pull him along. “Alright, dude,” Jesse had an unnatural cheerfulness to his voice. “Let’s roll, I want you to meet Chau before we talk about pay or anything. C’mon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tendo and Newt meet.

At the Anchorage Shatterdome is where Tendo met Newt. Their first time was a less than blissful meeting for both, because Tendo had just lost his two best friends and Newt had just been told he was being taken from his home in Massachusettes to the Ninth Circle of Hell (his words, not Tendo's). The scientist was older than him by two years and grouchy beyond belief. They did not hit it off at all for the first three hours, and then somehow ended up at the same bar where Tendo did a half-dozen shots on a mostly-empty stomach, grabbed his collar, and asked “Are you pissy b’cause you left y’fuckin’ garbage can b-back in Wir-sister?”

Newt took hold of Tendo’s wrists and didn’t push him back. He was _smiling._ “Becket, actually. I was visiting friends.”

“Becket,” Tendo felt cold. “You were in Becket.” Tendo started to shake. “ _Becket,_ ” he repeated, then let out a giggle and proceeded to throw up over Newt’s shoulder, onto his back and the bar top.

It was the first time he would get to hear Newt laugh in that anxious, hyper-giddy way. Newt turned Tendo around, tossed three 20s and a pack of smokes on the bar as a peace offering to the angry bartender, and lead the shaky tech out into the cold. They laughed the whole way, cracking jokes about Sesame Street. Tendo couldn't remember half of them, but he could remember Newt calling him Big Bird and Tendo throwing up again. Newt dragged his sorry ass back to the Dome, sneaking past a weary Stacker and visiting Mako. Tendo didn't want to go back to his own room and Newt wasn't in the mood or shape to drag the tech up two flights of stairs, so he took him to the K-Labs and set him down on his own bed.

That was when things got _weird_. Newt backed away and went to the kitchenette to get Tendo a glass of water and Tendo took the chance to look around at the few things Newt had managed to put up. He was apparently a _huge_ fucking nerd, which Tendo adored; he'd brought a cheap Iron Man doll, still in it's box, and a plastic glow-in-the-dark Iron Man mask with him. Newt had a _huge_ pile of pillows and two lovely comforters: a light brown one, obviously meant to imitate a heavy fur, and a beautiful darker brown and yellow one. The second quickly became Tendo's favorite because it was reversible and had a scene wove into it of two horses, a dam and a filly, running across a plain with a simple sun above their heads. The way Newt had laid it left the mostly-brown side up and meant that the horses and sun were yellow in color.

These were keepsakes, Tendo realized. Everything that Newt had managed to set up in his few short hours where precious keepsakes from home. The doll, the mask, the comforters, his stupid avengers sheets, his stupid DVD's scattered at the end of the bed and his stupid iPod plugged into his stupid laptop. Newt had people who loved him back home, people who loved him enough to give him these things. These things were a portable comfort zone for him, something that Tendo had never managed to build up without seeing it ripped from him.

And here he was, in Newt's bubble. He threw up on the scientist's back and he hadn't gotten punched in the head for it. He was soaked to the bone from sweat and shaking from the cold, and he wasn't being met with jokes about how he needed a shower. Newt was _obviously_ much more sober than Tendo was, but he was being _kind_ to him. He was being gentle in a way that Tendo so desperately needed; he was taking _care_ of him, bringing him water and sitting next to him to rub his back and promise him he would be okay. Tendo's heart fluttered as he remembered Jesse and the Beckets, remembered Shawn Molina from the docks and Daryl Aoki from high school, remembered that they all had the same sweet gentleness about them. Hannibal also bubbled to mind, forcing his way through as usual, souring those precious memories with his unforgiving hands, acidic threats and violent reactions.

It made Tendo do something he hadn't done in _years_. He tried to steady himself, breathe in and out deeply like the doctors at the Academy had shown him. Of course, that was bloody useless: before he knew it the glass had slipped from his grip and crashed on the floor, and he was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his face covered by his hands. Tendo didn't wail bitterly, but he did sob and choke and sputter. Newt pulled him partially into his lap and fully into his arms, let Tendo cry against his chest as he remembered everything he'd lost over such short years. Newt, sweet and gentle Newt, ran his fingers through Tendo's messy hair and spoke softly to him. It did nothing for Tendo's aching heart but it did wonders for his wrecked body. Before he knew it he'd stopped, stopped sobbing and trembling. When he felt it was safe enough, Newt pulled away and laid him down, on his side, getting up and setting immediately to work. He cleaned up the shattered glass and puddle of water, set about stripping Tendo – there was nothing sexual to his work. Every fiber of the tech's body wanted to flinch when Newt started, but there was no energy left for it. Newt was careful about it, starting with his shoes and pulling his jacket off first, fishing out some spare clothes of his own before he finished. Tendo was grateful for it and redressed himself once Newt had absconded with his clothes, probably to wash them.

When the scientist came back, he was holding two more glasses of water and wearing similar sleeping pants and an identical white t-shirt. “Hope you don't mind,” he said, gesturing to his own pair, and Tendo's borrowed ones. The former's were a color-opposite of the latter's, light purple with bright green dinosaurs. “They were a set. I kinda liked 'em.”

Tendo gave a weak smile and a half-hearted shrug as Newt returned to the bed and handed Tendo one of the glasses. The other he set on the bedside table before grabbing a chair and pulling it around. “Do you wanna talk?” Newt asked as he sat down in the chair and put his feet up on the bed just to the left of Tendo. It was a boxing-in technique, meant to provide safe boundaries, and Tendo appreciated it so much. “Cos I'll listen. It doesn't have to be about...well. It can be about dumb shit. Video games and stuff, y'know? Sometimes that just helps.”

Tendo nodded, but he didn't feel like talking about video games. So he talked about everything else, he told Newt about his grandfather, Jesse and the Beckets. He told him about working with Hannibal, and about everything Hannibal had ever done for him – _to_ him – but he couldn't bring himself to say his name. Hannibal was a boogeyman to him now; if he even _whispered_ his name, he might show up. It made sense in his drunk mind. Newt didn't push for that little detail.

He talked almost non-stop until two in the morning. Newt keept bringing him water until he couldn't drink anymore and then laid beside him when he couldn't sit up anymore. He didn't put his hands on Tendo or turn away, just lay facing him with one hand tangled up with the younger man's and the other free in case he needed to hold him again. They fell asleep and woke up like that, with both men curled up on their sides and their foreheads together and their hands holding each other's.

And after that, well, Tendo couldn't pinpoint exactly _when_ they went from “Newt and Tendo, Definitely Best Friends Forever™” to “Newt-and-tendo, The Socially Illiterate Geniuses Giving Each Other “Fuck Me” Pouts at Meetings©” to “Newtandtendo, You Know Those Guys Who Are TOTALLY Fuckin' And Giving Each Other Eskimo Kisses And Stuff®”. Newt was more forward, more hands on with his affections. He would pull Tendo around corners before the other had to go into weekly debriefings and give him caring kisses and beautiful touches. He made Tendo eat real people food, for nutrition and at normal times, not just “after I finish this one little thing, you can go on without me”. If Tendo had to get up extra early in the morning, or was shaken from his sleep by an alarm, Newt would know and he'd be there with coffee and offering to help. To everyone else, he was a neurotic, insufferable asshole; to Tendo, he was nothing short of the Best Thing Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to go with a slightly non-linear timeline: you all now know how Tendo _met_ Hannibal, but I want to keep you waiting to see _exactly_ he did to him. o: I know, I know, a horrible person am I! Don't worry: I promise I'm trying to be quality, even if that doesn't work, like, ever. If it makes you feel better, the "flashback" chapters will proooobably be quite lengthy.
> 
> And a note about Newt's bed: I totally copied my bed, because I feel like Newt would want to have the comfiest bed imaginable. I stopped just short of giving him similar Avengers bedsheets. :B


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I'll hold on to the dream  
> Of this beggar's plea and optimistic fantasy  
> Just hold the hand and drop the knee  
> You're facing love  
> You're embracing melody

  * Newt has terrible ideas. This is a fact.
  * Tendo's got worse ideas, but most of them are simply “go along with whatever is Newt's idea”. This is also fact



This was probably how they wound up at the bar that they “met” at, two weeks before they were meant to pack up and head to Hong Kong. “Met”, of course, being a subjective term, because in Newt's eyes they didn't “meet” until Tendo made a Sesame Street joke and in Tendo's eyes, they _definitely_ met when Newt bumped a cup of precious coffee off of a table “by accident” not ten minutes after he'd arrived.

“It was in the way,” he'd complained to Tendo, who was already in Not Having It Today gear.

“It doesn't matter,” he snapped, “I don't care.”The last time Tendo had heard that excuse bad, bad things had happened. “Just because something's “in your way” doesn't give you the right to destroy it.” Stacker didn't explain to Newt, but one of the other techs had stepped in and brushed it off as “you broke his favorite mug, and he's kind of an addict, so you're probably safer on the other side of the room”.

And then one thing led to another, and they wound up at Uncle Cranky's Tavern – not a fancy joint by any means, but not terrible. It had atmosphere and charm, and after five years – despite terrible memories, and despite the sorrow that blossomed every time he came back – it had become “Their Spot”. Exceptions were given to anniversaries and birthdays, but they didn't get to spend all of those together thanks to globetrotting people-snacker-uponers and bureaucracy. That was probably what made the little joint so special to him; all his favorite people went there, and all his favorite people blended in so well together.

And, as fate would have it, Newt had a fantastic idea while there. Sitting in a booth across from Tendo, each holding the other's hand while carrying notes in the other, he suddenly said, “Hey, let's go outside. I need to ask you something.” Tendo raised a brow as Newt laid his packet down and slid out. “Come on, Bryan's here. He'll make sure our shit's safe, right?” Newt turned to glance at another tech who just shrugged, nodded and smiled. “It's important. I promise.”

So Tendo followed Newt outside into the cold. Newt might be a weirdo, but he wasn't, and he'd stolen his boyfriend's coat before they'd left the Dome. Newt didn't seem bothered by the wind or the light snow, but he didn't seem bothered by much, ever. He was a rock, and Tendo loved that – needed that.

“So I've been thinking,” he said, starting to fumble with his pockets.

Tendo snorted. “I thought I smelled something burning.”

Newt rolled his eyes and started pulling out pens and receipts. “Hardy har har. As I was _saying_ , I've been thinking. A lot, and not just about kaiju, which are still totally cool to me. I, uhm, I talked to Hermann, because you know he and Vanessa have a kid on the way. And that old fuddy-duddy, I don't know how he does it, but shit, he does.” Newt finally seemed to find what he was looking for, but he kept his fist closed around it. “But I talked to him, because apparently older people know things or something. I talked to him about...well, us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah,” Newt nodded. “Yeah, us. I asked him dumb questions. I know I give him shit all of the time, but he's kind of the only other person I've got that I can consider a “best friend” you know? And I figured he might know shit that I don't. He _did_ score Vanessa, and she is one crumbly cookie, if you catch my drift.”

Tendo hadn't thought about girls that way since freshman year. “No, not really.”

“Thought so,” Newt smiled at him. “But I talked to him. About...you mostly. About how serious things are, how long we've been going. He approves you, thinks you mellow me out. I think that too. I really, really do love you, more than anything. More than _kaiju_ , and I'm pretty sure I would marry one! You, you know, after I...okay, look, what I want to ask is-”

Newt suddenly when forward and crashed into Tendo, knocking him back onto the ground as a couple of drunks limped out of the bar. “Shit! Shit, shit shit, _shit, **shit.**_ ” Newt tried to pull himself up and slipped; the drunk that had knocked him down had been the only thing keeping him from slamming back down onto Tendo. “Oh, oh god, babe, I am so sorry-”

“It's okay.” Tendo grunted and pulled himself up to sit, rubbing his sore elbow. That and his shoulder hurt more than anything. “Are you okay?”

“Yo, sorry, man,” the drunk's friend stooped down to help Tendo to his feet as well. “We didn't see you, you guys okay?”

“Jake,” Newt brushed himself off. “What're you doing out of the office?” The guy – Jake? Apparently, they knew each other – shrugged. “I thought you were pulling overtime all this week.”

“Not today. Hank's getting' hitched, so we wanted to get him good and drunk.” Jake beamed at the guy that had staggered into Newt's back. Newt nodded and slapped a hand on the wobbly man's shoulder.

“Hey, man, congrats. I didn't think you'd had the nerve-” the words choked off and his eyes went wide, and suddenly Newt was back on the ground scrambling around going, “Oh, shit, oh shit, _oh, shitty shit shit fuck._ ”

Tendo joined him on the ground even though he had no idea what he was looking for. “What'd you drop?”

“I can't-” Newt shook his head. “I can't-that thing was _expensive_ , oh god, not like that's important but _fuck_...” Jake, Hank and their friend seemed to catch the hint and joined them down on the ground while Newt rambled. “It was beautiful, I wanted this to be special and I know how you get about crowds, that's why I wanted to do it out here, and you hated tradition so it wasn't like I was gonna drop on one knee-” Tendo's hand closed around an odd-shaped lump in the snow. He paused, and pulled it close but didn't dare open his palm to look at it.

“What are you talking about? What did you drop?” The question was barely heard above the whip of the wind or rush of cars passing them on the street. Newt stopped in his search and turned to Tendo, sad-eyed and looking absolutely _crushed_. “I lost it,” Newt said, and fuck if the sorrow in his words wasn't nearly palpable. “I lost it. It was – it, I dropped it when. When I, oh god, sweetie, I'm so sorry.”

“What did you drop?” Tendo repeated. Oh course he _knew_ what Newt had dropped. He _knew_ what Newt was talking about. “This?” The snow had melted around what he'd picked up and he could feel it digging into the palm of his skin. Tendo raised his hand slowly to chest level and opened his palm. “You...”

Newt swallowed and scooted forward until he could pick up the ring. “Five years ago,” he didn't bother to hide the tremor in his voice. “Five years ago, I broke a cup of coffee. And this really, really cute tech started yelling at me. I don't know why he was so angry or why he started giving me life advice over a busted mug. I still don't know.

“Five years ago, a really cute tech in a bow tie practically called me Oscar the Grouch, and threw up on my shoulder and back. And I had to carry him back to my room because he wouldn't make it to his own, and I sat there and listened to him talk about how he couldn't catch a break and how every time he seemed to be happy, something always got in the way. Something like, you know, big, blue acid spewing monsters.” Newt took Tendo's hand in his own, but didn't take the ring back. “I kissed a really beautiful man, like, four years ago. It was kind of on a dare, but it was something I'd wanted to do for a year. I _totally_ won that game of truth or dare.”

“Newt,” Tendo's voice was watery. He wasn't going to cry – he wanted to, but in their time together the only time he'd cried was that first night. Fighting past the words that kept lumping up in his throat he said, “You want to marry me.”

“I want to marry you,” Newt confirmed. “I want to marry you. I want to hold your hand, _all_ of the time,  I want to kiss your stupid face forever. I want to be able to tell people, 'why yes, that is my husband bailing me out of jail'. I want to have kids with you so we can do embarrassing crap to them. But...but if you don't want to, I know. I understand. If you don't wanna do this-”

Tendo felt the air catch in his throat. “I do.” Newt squeezed his hand. “Oh, god. Yes, _yes_.”

The scientist surged forward, closing his hand over the ring to keep it from falling this time, and kissed him. Passion warmed them both to the bone and for once, just Tendo didn't have that horrible feeling choke him back to reality. No nagging voice at the back of his brain told him _this isn't good, stop, stop it_ , no pressure in his gut made him retch. Newt was a good man, a good and caring man, and Tendo loved him so.

“Alright, _dude_ ,” Hank suddenly clapped a heavy hand on Newt's shoulder. “Dude, that is so fuckin’ boner.” Tendo saw Newt’s stupidly proud smile and saw he was _so close_ to making a dumb Single Ladies joke; he didn’t give him the chance to, instead pulling him forward and giving him a deep kiss to choke it off. Newt whispered _I love you, so so much_ against his aching mouth and Tendo almost broke down again. It almost wasn’t fair how good he had it, finally, _finally_. But he didn’t question it. Tendo didn’t have time to dwell on bullshit, not anymore.

And if he smiled just a little wider and hummed to himself when he walked into LOCCENT the next morning, no longer a cloud darkened by the news of impending relocation, no one questioned it. Tendo figured they were all probably a little thankful that he wasn’t moping about and whining anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary lyrics to the song "The Minstrel's Prayer" by Cartel, which I totally didn't listen to repeatedly while trying to write the end of this chapter. Nope, nope, uh uh, not me. Also, "Uncle Cranky's" is shamelessly riffing off a local joint where I live. "Uncle Cranky's" is not the name, I just thought it was funny; then again, I also think "Chucklefucker" is hilarious, but I couldn't name the place "Unckle Chucklefucker's" for reasons.


	4. Chapter 4

When Raleigh met Newt, it went down considerably worse than when Tendo met Newt.

“Yeah, but I'm marryin' him,” Tendo reminded him later, when they finally got to sit down and play catch up. They hid themselves away in Raleigh's room for privacy, curled up shoulder-to-shoulder on his bed. It would almost have been romantic if it weren't for the fact that Raleigh was straight as a piece of sheet metal, and Tendo was engaged. Once also had to factor in that this was exactly how Raleigh or Yancy would hold him when he was having an attack or after a nightmare. It almost felt like coming home, and there in the sanctuary of Raleigh's quarters they didn't feel as alone as they both had. The hurt was still there; their three was chopped down to two, and nothing could mend that. But it still felt good.

“Marrying him, eh? You never struck me as the settle-down type.” Tendo closed his eyes and leaned his head against Raleigh's collar. Impending end-of-times notwithstanding, this had been the best month of his life. “How long, now?”

“Four years.” Tendo sighed. “Right after you left, that makes it five. But it was almost a year before he acted on it and kissed me. The first day we met he broke a mug and then we went and got smashed and I puked on him.”

“Oh, I bet he thought that was charming.” Raleigh chuckled. It was a sound Tendo never thought he'd hear again. He suddenly tightened the arm around Tendo's chest protectively. “I know one thing. He better stay sweet. I swear to you, Tendo, if he hurts you in any way-”

“He won't.” Tendo didn't want to think of that possibility, didn't want to consider that there may come a day where Newt's no longer the good man that he knows. “Newt's different. He isn't like _him_.”

And Raleigh knew who Tendo meant, and he just nodded and kissed his temple. “You're my brother.” He reasons. “If I knew where he was, I would find him. I would tear his brain out, dude. And I know you don't think he would – hell, _I_ don't think he would – but if he _ever_ hurts you, I will pull his intestines out of his belly button and hang him with them.”

Tendo winced but laughed. “Gross. Why do you always gotta be violent with it?”

“Hey, that's what little brothers do.” Raleigh laughed, too, and it felt so good to have him back. “I'm going to make up for it. I fucked up, and I'm not going to do that again. Trust me.” Tendo didn't say that he already did, because mostly when Raleigh quit he was _hurt_. “I missed you. I missed this life, oddly enough.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine working on the wall’s anywhere near as exciting as climbing into a thin metal tomb and punching acid slime monsters to death.” Tendo realized he couldn't have that conversation; he couldn't, because he would just go back to being bitter about Raleigh leaving, and there was no time to let your feelings get in the way of the end of the world. He disentangled himself from Raleigh's hold and said, “Speaking of punching things, I have to go find Newt.” Raleigh raised a brow and Tendo just raised his hand. “We’ve got planning to do. He’s keen on making this thing ‘perfect’, y’know?”

“Ah,” Raleigh stood up as well. “I hope I'm invited to this thing, Choi.”

“Couldn't have it without you,” Tendo winked. That was the honest truth – even without Raleigh there, Tendo couldn't have pictured his wedding going well without Raleigh being there. Then again, he'd always figured that maybe Yancy would be there too, but now he supposed being there in spirit was about all he was going to get. Tendo could deal with that.

 ↭

“We are not slow dancing to Bonnie Raiit,” Tendo crossed his arms and shook his head. “Not to _that_ song, dude. That is so inappropriate.”

“It's soft, though! It's slow, it's sweet, it's smooth! We could make this work!”

“Yeah, no.” Tendo shook his head. “Not gonna happen. 'I Can't Make You Love Me'? Really? No.”

“But I _love_ that song.” Newt whined.

“And I _love_ not giving people bad ideas or tempting fate.” Newt pouted and leaned over to kiss Tendo. “You can't bribe me with kissing.”

“I can bribe you with chocolate.” Newt laid a hand on his thigh and kissed him again. “And money,” he drawled as the hand gently squeezed Tendo’s thigh and he kissed him again. “I can be very persuasive…”

“No,” Tendo wanted to shake his head but he just smiled and returned for a third, knowing the bastard would probably get his way. They had a general agreement on what kind of music they wanted but Newt wanted his parents there, and his mother loved Bonnie Raiit. Tendo would porbably give in eventually, but he was going to drag this out as much as possible. Deciding to change the subject for the time being he asked, “You got the list of songs we’re _definitely_ not playing?”

“Complete with threats,” Newt pulled away and grabbed a piece of loose leaf. “Needs to be expanded, I think I left off some.” Tendo took the list and looked it over. Number one was “No Chicken Dance”, number two being “No Cha Cha Slides of any kind, you will forfeit your check if you tempt fate”. Three was “No Electric Slide. If You Do, I will Electric Slide my fist into your jaw”.

“Jeez, Geiszler, got a little violent.” Newt laughed and leaned over to rest his head on Tendo’s shoulder. “But I totally approve.”

“Wait till you see all the songs that we’re _definitely_ playing,” he whispered and closed his eyes. The world seemed to slow down in that moment and Tendo felt relaxed, way more relaxed than he’d ever been, “I can’t wait until I can call you mine.”

“I’m already yours, dumbass.” Tendo smirked but still wrapped his arms around Newt. There was a painful sincerity to his voice that made Tendo think that maybe he wasn’t the only one terrified something bad was going to happen; then again, their ideas of bad were drastically different. He entangled his fingers with the scientist’s. “I love you.”

Newt raised his head to look at him. “I love you, too. So much,” and his voice was so soft and sincere that Tendo almost melted. Damn if the boy didn’t have a hand on his heart.

They leaned in for another kiss when a loud grunt from behind startled Newt into almost slipping out of his seat. “Jesus, _no_ , Hermann, don’t _do that._ ”

Hermann ignored Newt and gave a polite tip of the head to Tendo. “Good evening, Mr. Choi.” Tendo stood as well and moved from the table. “Are you here as part of the meeting as well?”

“Meeting? Oh, no, no, I was just…” Tendo cast a sideways glance at a deeply embarrassed Newt. “We were just chatting.” Hermann nodded and made his way to the table where scribbles and lists were laid out haphazardly. He went for a picture tucked under a tentative guest list and studied it.

“I’d say it’s a little early to be planning, but I guess four years is a long enough courting process.” He offered after a minute of silence. Flipping the picture towards them, he asked, “Not going for the traditional? Silly question, I suppose. Neither of you is particularly…well, tradition doesn’t seem…” Hermann waved his hand and hoped that this gave good enough explanation. Tendo knew Hermann was probably only being polite because he was in there since he’d normally being yelling at Newt for keeping the plans disorganized and scattered.

An uneasy quiet had settled over the room, and Tendo felt, for the second time that day, that he couldn’t be around the people he cared about. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I have work I have to do. Marshall’ll probably yell at me if I don’t get to it,” he gave Newt a quick kiss just below his ear and squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you later.”

Newt nodded and kicked at the ground. Hermann said nothing as Tendo left and waited for the door to shut before he turned to the other half of their “research department”. “Please,” Newt crossed his arms and groaned. “Please do not lecture me. I smell a lecture, they make me ill, please do not.”

“Do you truly feel prepared for the married life? Are you doing this to prove something?”

“Oh, so now you wanna ask dumb questions like that. Where was this side when, when two months ago, I _asked_ you about all of this!” Newt wanted to hit the wall; what the _hell_ was Hermann pulling at? He’d been the one to fucking _encourage_ it, and now he wanted to ask if he was _really ready_?

“I’m just _looking out_ for you!” Hermann snapped. His voice was equally full of hurt and venom. “You know what people say about him, you _know_ what his past was like.”

“Stop, okay? Just, stop.” Newt no longer wanted to hit the wall; he wanted to take Hermann’s fucking cane and beat him silly with it. “I know enough. If he has things he’d rather not tell me, that’s his business! Why the fuck should he feel obligated to tell me every last little detail?” Hermann opened his mouth to rebuke but Newt pointed a finger and cut him off. “Don’t give me that old-as-hell “damaged goods” diatribe, either, asshole. He’s _not damaged goods_.”

“I wasn’t going to _say that._ ” Hermann’s grip had gone white-knuckled and a sheen of sweat glistened across his face. Newt knew he’d touched a nerve because Hermann was subscribed to the “calling people damaged goods because they have rough pasts is baloney and if you do it you deserve to be dropkicked out of existence” school of thought. “Contrary to what you believe, Mr. Choi is my friend, as well. He has been for a very long time.” It was Newt’s turn to be cut off, because when he opened his mouth to counter Herman held up a fist. “ _No_. I listened to you, you listen to _me_ now.

“I have been **thinking**. Thinking quite a lot, and not just about the world-ending situation at hand. You are both my friends regardless of how much I would like to bounce that stupid head of yours up and down the hallway, and I care _deeply_ for the both of you. And that is my issue. Emotional baggage has weight, and he’s practically moving house his has so much weight. However…” Hermann tried to regulate his breathing and cleared his throat. “However, he is a good man. A _damn_ good man. He could have been a Ranger, or a researcher, and he chose to be a tech. Mr. Choi could have had the fame and the adoration, and heaven knows he couldn’t shy away from a deadly thrill if you paid him. Instead, he chose something equally important. You may not be aware of his history, but I am.”

Newt had crossed his arms and was looking at the ground like a child being scolded. He knew where Hermann was taking his speech, because he’d done it before for another couple entirely. “Get to the point,” he huffed out, sounding more hurt than annoyed.

“Mr. Choi has unsettled history. I believe the phrase is “the past will always come back to bite one in the ass”. If you are not prepared to take on the responsibility of fighting with him, then you may need to reconsider.”

“I can protect him.” Newt insisted. “Whatever it was, whatever he did, whoever’s still got bad blood. I can protect him. I’m not helpless.”

“Mr. Choi is more than capable of protecting himself. He needs no white night. He needs someone to look at him and act as an equal. Do you understand?” Hermann waited until the other had nodded. He also took no small pleasure in noting that the action seemed to cause him physical agony. “If you hurt or betray or abandon him, there will be an entire Shatterdome waiting to bring wrath upon your head.”

“Please don’t give me the shovel talk,” Newt covered his face with his hands and moved over to his workstation. “Jesus, I’ve gotten it from almost everyone, I don’t need it from you, too.”

“He’s received one as is.” Hermann had laughter in his voice at that. “As I said, he is my friend. But so are you. If harm were to come to either of you by the other’s hand, I would personally oversee the other’s quick disappearance. Remember that.”

Newt fought hard not to roll his eyes; Hermann was difficult to understand sometimes, but he’d gotten the teal deer of it – baggage bad, Tendo has lots, Tendo has a bad past, Tendo is vulnerable and could easily be emotionally compromised, and also all above checked boxes apply equally to Newt. He supposed that most of that was true except he couldn’t for the life of him recall how he _himself_ could be any of those things. Newt was an only child and spoiled to bits by his parents and uncle and aunts; he’d never gotten in trouble except for a few arrests for minor dumb shit.

In all honesty, though, n Newt was also kind of a man-child with zero ability to act responsibly around other people, severe anxiety issues and the ability to absolutely crumble under any kind of intense threatening pressure and holy _crap_ Hermann was right, and damn if Newt didn’t fucking hate it when that happened.

The realization hit him like a bag of rocks and hurt, so bad; he didn’t feel less happy or excited when he thought of Tendo, or their impending marriage, and he knew that no matter how crappy their lives or personalities he was going to do it, but he was suddenly scared and so stressed out. Everyone else made it look so easy, so balanced and controlled, and Newt had always chalked it up into a formula because he wasn’t good at thinking and responding like a normal person. You could ask him about anything in regards to kaiju or chemistry or trig (and he _hated_ trig, but he still knew it so well) and he could turn a ten word question into a two hour tutoring session. He had even, somehow, managed to make a four year relationship keeping goring and grow, and that was nothing to shake a stick at.

Newt sank into his work under a sudden wave of nausea and crippled self-assurance. Hermann was right – he had no idea what he was getting into. Could this actually work out? Dating seemed so simple, being committed was like playing Fallout on Very Easy mode. Newt could control that. But what about a wedding? He wanted it, so bad – he wanted Tendo, wanted to hyphenate their names and buy a house and a nice car and one day have a kid or a lot of good pets, do all that whacky stuff that couples did. He just wanted to know: could he be a good man, for Tendo? For himself?

Fuck. Newt tried not to mutter “fuck you” as hard as he could as he buried himself into his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I accidentally an eighth chapter.
> 
> Man, I got rambly towards the end. The teal deer, as Newt says, is this: they are both pretty vases that have been knocked over and busted. Not shattered, just busted. They could be put back together, or they could be put back together...together...and make something whole and shiny and new. The cracks will still be there, but as anyone who knows what kintsugi is, that new vase will be even prettier than before.
> 
> And also I'm doing this because I'm a horrible being and like to watch my darlings suffer. B)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pulls at hair* THIS IS LATE AND SHORT AND PROBABLY REALLY BAD AND FOR THAT I DO APOLOGIZE. FYI kids, school sucks.
> 
> Also, I really like the idea that Tendo calls the mini-kaiju Otachi Jr. and Newt calls him Babaiju. Jus sayin'.

Tendo didn't really know _exactly_ how he was going to react to being alone with Newton after his drift with the Otachi Jr. He had an idea, because of course he had an idea, but what he was going to say to him...well, no amount of rehearsal would prepare him. The two best ideas he had – punching and kissing him – were probably going to have to do.

Newt didn't come find him until midmorning the next day; if it hadn't been for their present circumstances, Tendo would have been angrier. Instead he was just left with an oddly hollow feeling in his chest and a queasiness he just couldn't cope with. It was difficult to stand up on his own and Newt would have to forgive him when he didn't immediately jump up when the scientist finally slinked into their shared bunk space.

“You're upset,” Newt guessed. His stance was defensive and his tone flat, making it very hard for Tendo to cope with what he was about to say.

“Damn _right_ I'm upset,” his fingers dug into the edge of the mattress so hard he thought he'd rip his nails off. “Are you fucking stupid, Newton? No, no, don't answer that. Don't look at me like that.” Tendo found the strength to stand and he pointed a shaking finger at his fiance. “Do _not_ give me any 'I saved the world!' crap, I _swear_ , I will light you on fire. What were you fucking thinking? You couldn't at least tell _me_? I could've helped you! I could've-”

“I met Hannibal.”

Oh.

_Oh._ Oh, _shit._

If you've never felt like the words in your throat have been suckerpunched into your stomach, it'd be difficult to imagine what Tendo's body was doing to him in that moment. It wasn't enough that Newt's gaze was heartbroken, it also reminded Tendo that he himself was very broken, and he felt suddenly very, very small.

But Newt didn't look betrayed or angry and that was what did him in; his knees buckled and before he knew it, Tendo was heading towards the floor. Newt barely stopped him and up accidentally bashing the tech in the head with his shoulder; Tendo's weight knocked Newt back onto the ground. He didn't struggle against the arms locked around him, but it wasn't until he heard the other man's gentle words and felt the hold go from restraining to protecting that he burrowed himself into the hold and didn't something he'd only done once since meeting Newt: he _bawled_. He sobbed until his chest started to hurt and breathing didn't come easy, until Newt's shoulder was soaked and disgusting. Neither felt very dignified lying there on the floor but Tendo wasn't crying because he was sad or angry anymore; he was crying because he realized he hadn't gotten away. All that he'd done to escape, all the people who'd been caught in between, had died for nothing.

Newt waited until Tendo was calm enough to move and got him onto the bed. He muttered a quiet “stay here” and disappeared into their 'kitchen', returning with a bottle of vodka. Water was better for them both, but alcohol was what they both wanted. Newt didn't press him for details but let him take the first sip and calm his own nerves.

“You don't have to tell me anything,” Newt put his hand on Tendo's knee and rubbed gentle, comforting circles. “I won't make you. I won't...I won't hold it against you if you don't want me to.”

Tendo wanted to believe him but he knew better than to; secrets could eat a relationship alive. He would've preferred that Newt had never found out, so instead he asked: “how did you know?”

“Hermann told me. When Stacker sent me to get the other brain, he followed because he thought I was an incompetent nincompoop. You know, usual Hermann stuff?” Both men chuckled despite themselves.  “So he went after me. When the pregnant one, Otachi, attacked the city and the little one popped out...we thought it was dead first, you know?” Newt had started to move without realizing it, pulling Tendo back into his arms. “And I said, “Oh, man, Tendo is gonna think this is so cool” right when he was about to stab it's snout again, and he did a double take and said your name. And then he kind of became a mobster lozenge, and babaiju choked to death on him. I'll admit, I thought it was kinda neat.”

“You would,” Tendo screwed his eye shut and thought for a moment. He couldn't keep it from Newt forever, and now that Hannibal was dead...well, would he judge him for it? Think him less of a person? He didn't really have any other way of finding out, and if this was going to sour their relationship...Tendo would rather it happen on his own terms.

When Newt stopped chuckling, Tendo took a deep breath and began his story.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updates and update speeds are bad and I should feel bad.
> 
> Also, Jesse, Marko and Jaska* are all [expies](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Expy). Two nickels and a rubber band gun to whoever can figure them all out.
> 
>  
> 
> *Technically Marko and Jaska are not expies in the purest sense, and names were supposed be placeholders but that's not the point because they're characters in this story which means something heartbreaking is going to happen to them. Yyyayyy!

It was 2 AM when Tendo snuck into Jesse's room. He locked the door behind himself before pressing his back to it, giving the dealer time enough to sit up and blink away the barely-there sleep that had started to settle. “Time s'it?”

“Does it matter?” Tendo had one hand on his hip and the other on the door handle, tapping it lightly with one finger. It was his own little signal, their secret sign. Before his brain could start screaming its usual _bad idea, BAD IDEA_ alert, he made room on the bed and welcomed the other man with open arms.

Tendo wasted no time climbing into his lap and pushing him back for a kiss. His own hands worked quickly to undo Jesse's belt and button while Jesse's slipped under the back of his shirt to rub his back. “He could kill us for this,” he whispered when Tendo pulled away to kiss his jaw. “He probably _will_ kill-ouch _ouch_ –”

Tendo had sunk his teeth into Jesse's shoulder; not deep enough to draw blood, but it made him shut up. Hannibal would be back in the morning and they had to be quick because neither wanted to see him while they both stunk of sex.

Jesse pushed him back and started to scoot against the wall and Tendo kept his voice low as he ordered, “ _Disrobe_ , loser.”

Jesse tried not to laugh when he pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. “Name calling is a mood killer, retard,” he countered, and Tendo balled his fist up and punched him in the jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt but definitely hard enough to knock Jesse off balance, and when he raised his head back up Tendo had already pulled his shirt and pants off. He helped Jesse to get undressed and switched positions with him, allowing Jesse to reach the bedside table and grab what he needed.

 

Tendo left Jesse’s room well before morning and the dealer woke up alone, drenched in sticky and drenched in sweat. He also woke up to a loud banging on his room door and rolled out of bed as quick as he could, figuring it was Tendo.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he groaned. Jesse took a moment to lean against the door frame and get his bearings before pulling the door open with a slurred, “Hellllooo, beautifoss. Boss. Hey. Hi.”

It was one thing to go to sleep next to Tendo Choi and a completely different thing to wake up to Hannibal Chau; a prime difference was probably not going to stick a knife in Jesse’s ribs at any given moment. “I…thought you were Bryan.”

Chau was also continuously unimpressed with just about everything that Jesse did. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, taking in Jesse’s sweaty body and ruined sheets. “What have I told you about fraternization?” Jesse bit back a scathing retort and managed a somewhat guilty look. “Exactly. Get cleaned up, you’re picking up a shipment from the Finns.” He thought for a moment before making a gesture over his shoulder with his thumb towards the ‘living room’ area. “Take Tendo.”

“Tendo?” Jesse furrowed his brow and rubbed furiously at his face as if it would actually help his hearing. “But Bryan –”

“Is out working,” Hannibal dropped all pretense of patience, “which is what he should’ve been doing last night, and not giving out freebies to co-workers. Now, wipe your fucking chest off, put on your big girl panties, and _go do_ what I goddamn pay you to do.”

 

Tendo didn't know too much about the Finns other than they'd helped Jesse in his “refinement process”, helped him deal, and were Finnish. They raised dogs and treated them better than most people treated their kids. They were also friendly, particularly to anyone who Jesse was friends with or worked with, and that meant to Tendo as well – Hannibal and those closest to him were obvious exceptions.

Marko did most of the dog-raising and “accounting” work for them. Both men were tall – Marko at 6’ even and Jaska just two inches taller than him – but Marko had blue eyes and kept his blond hair close-cut and face clean shaven, making him look younger (Tendo, it should be noted, had no idea how old either of them was, because he operated under the assumption that Finnish people were immortal). He was also much slimmer than Jaska was, couldn’t fight worth a damn and tended to carry a razor-sharp utility knife with him at all times because of it.

Jaska, meanwhile, couldn’t have been too much older than Marko and yet he acted like he was in his sixties, wearing old plaid shirts that smelled like mothballs and work jeans. He did most of the “heavy lifting” as far as the process went, taking care of cooking meth and crack for Jesse and by default for Hannibal. It struck Tendo as bizarre how many people were willing to do business with him simply because they had friends working for the man, but no one else was particularly close to him; he could understand why, knowing that even as much as he’d been in love with him before Hannibal could be a royal selfish sack of dicks.

But he was good for business and it was easier to partner up with him than try to go against him. Hannibal had connections, something no one else living in the FEMA trailer park had. The last that Tendo had checked, their product had been going all over the Western Hemisphere; even if taking over their own business would give them more control, they’d lose nearly all their profits. Hannibal was kind of a big walking bastard. He was terrifying, as well, though; he’d staked his claim on Tendo from day one and the younger man didn’t really have a say in the matter, and he made sure anyone who so much as smiled at him got a slit nostril for their trouble. If that was just how he reacted to people being nice to his boyfriend, Tendo could understand why they had no interest in trying to branch out on their own.

But Tendo knew he wouldn’t want to stay if it was him, and he knew the place they probably considered home was far away. Once Jaska had led Jesse into the back and shut the door he asked, without thinking, “Have you ever thought about leaving?”

For the most part, Marko’s expression didn’t change save for some raised eyebrows. He didn’t look up from his task at hand – grooming Aake, the male of the two and a big diaper baby of a dog with a coal black coat – as he explained, “Not really. No reason to go back.”

Tendo had a knack for telling when he was coming up on a sensitive subject and also a really keen desire to test any and all personal boundaries. “So…no family? Friends? You just don’t like the weather?”

“The weather back “home” is not desirable to me, no,” Marko smiled a bit, though that might’ve been more because Aake was trying to eat the comb. “Jaska misses it. Thinks too much sun is gross. Perhaps he is right.” Without breaking his speech, Marko took the comb and tossed it behind his head onto the couch. Aake was done being groomed, but not done being cuddled, and he made this fact known by refusing to move from Marko’s lap. “He was never truly close to his parents. Mine would have nothing to do with us.”

“Oh,” Tendo said, without really thinking. It hit him about the same time that Aino, Aake’s mate, decided to take the “lapphund” part of her name seriously and throw herself onto Tendo’s lap for cuddling. The second, “Oh,” was because of how hard she’d thrown herself down; the second, slightly longer, “ _Ohh_ ,” because his brain had processed what Marko had just told him. “Shi-really? You’re not – is it because –?”

“It is,” the other man offered a one-shouldered shrug. “So it goes. I am not going to spend my nights wringing my hands and crying over it. I have many things I wish to do and see and therefore no time to waste being broken hearted over it.”

Aino suddenly lifted her head up to nuzzle the bottom of Tendo’s jaw, trying to remind him that she was there. As he scratched behind her ears he absentmindedly began to ramble.

“I was driving ferries on August 10th.” Tendo hadn’t thought about it in the seven or eight months since Trespasser had hopscotched over three Californian cities. “I met Jesse, like, a month afterwards. I never knew my dad but my mom had died a few years before and my grandpa…died. While I was trying to get him out. I don’t…I don’t think I have anything to dwell over anymore, either.”

“Except we will always have something to dwell over.” Tendo cast a glance at Marko and saw his gaze was turned towards the door. He wasn’t just talking about himself when he said, “It is not difficult to fall for someone who could quite easily be your undoing. It is something I have never understood, because he scares me very much, and yet I am more terrified of leaving.”

Tendo furrowed his brow and looked at the door; Jesse had never mentioned their relationship being violent or volatile in any way. “What, you mean, like…he hits you?”

Marko snorted. “Ah. I do not mean that he hits me.” Aake let out a low whine that brought Tendo’s attention back from the door to Marko. “Some people will only ever love because they think they can save someone else. This is always a bad thing. You cannot fix what isn’t broken.” Marko’s fingers started to dance on Aake’s brow nervously. “I have no wish to run, but sometimes it is very hard to justify staying. I worry all the time that he will be the death of us.”

Tendo nodded but didn’t answer, because what he had with Jesse wasn’t nearly as serious as what he had with Hannibal, or what Marko or Jaska had. He didn’t know the feeling. He might’ve explain as much, as well, but Jesse chose that moment to take a break from business with Jaska and wander into the living room. Tendo hoped that he hadn’t heard their conversation, and he gave nothing away to indicate that he had. Instead, he beckoned Tendo to follow him to the back room as Jaska headed into the kitchenette. Aino stood up with Tendo and followed him as Jaska took his place on the couch.

Tendo had never been into the bed room and obviously wasn’t missing much, because aside from being cleaner and sparsely decorated it wasn’t much different from the one that Jesse lived in or the one Ronnie and Bryan shared. He probably wasn’t about to show Tendo what he and Jaska had been talking about because Tendo didn’t get involved with the creation as much as the distribution, which meant he probably wanted to have an important discussion with Tendo that Tendo himself did not wish to have.

So he sat on the bed and let Aino lay her head on his lap again, opting to let Jesse try to have another heart-to-heart with him rather than fight it. He’d made his peace. He’d been expecting it. What he _hadn’t_ been expecting was for Jesse to pull up a chair, sit down, give up, drop to his knees, take his hands and say “I heard your conversation” and then “I want you to run away with me.”

And suddenly, Tendo felt sick, because oh. Oh. _Oh_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun _duuuuun_.
> 
> Bad things soon. Prepare yer diddlyholes~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jumps through your window and surfs your couch up the wall* I'M BAAAAAAAAAACK.
> 
> Ahem. I have returned. Rumor of my demise have been pretty much spot on, but I come bearing the fruits of my labor. I apologize that it's not better, but that's what I get for fucking up the harvest, I guess. The tl;dr is stuff came up; I got very sick very suddenly, we had no money, we still have no money, I stole a zebra from the Richmond City Zoo, and I am on a medical break from school. This is also, obviously, going to be longer than the previously expected 8 (and then 9, and then 7, and then 10, and 9 again) chapters, but not much longer.
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual.

“Please,” Jesse slid his hands up to just below Tendo's elbows and held his arms tight. “Please, please. Baby-”

“Don't _baby_ me, Jesse,” Tendo tried to hiss at the other man, quietly, but like most efforts (and himself, to his parents), it came out rather pathetically. “Jesse, no. _No_. Are you even thinking? Do you understand what you just _said_?”

“Yes, yes, please.” Jesse was back on his feet quickly. He moved away from Tendo a little, didn't box him in the same way Hannibal might've when confronted with a negative response. Tendo put his hands to his head and tried to press the stress headache suddenly taking over down. “I promise, this is not some shit I just pulled out of my ass, okay? I swear it isn't. I want you to leave with me, _please_.”

“Why?” Tendo's voice was shaky, watery even, but he wasn't about to cry. He was going to pass out if he didn't sit down. Tendo didn't do well under pressure, not anymore. Without thinking he forced himself to move, stumbling in the general direction of the bed; Jesse reached out and grabbed his sleeve, guiding him without putting his hands on him.

“He's a monster, Tendo.” Jesse sat on the floor a few feet away, his legs crossed. “He's a fucking monster. You _know_ what he does to other people. What he does when people aren't useful to him anymore. You know why he picked you.” He ran his hands over his head, mussing up his short hair. “I don't want to see what he does to you when he realizes you've lost interest in him.”

“Don't,” Tendo leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Tendo didn't need to guess what Hannibal would do to him, because he'd already seen someone outweigh their usefulness to him and Jesse was right; Tendo's only strong point right then was he was their only real go-to tech guy, and if Hannibal decided he wanted him in a corner he could just drag someone in from another trailer to do it. It wouldn't be hard to find someone better than Tendo.

“Let me sleep on it,” Tendo whispered through a pained voice, and Jesse let out a nearly silent relieved sigh because that may as well have been a definite 'yes', and god _damn_ , why did his stomach have to hurt so badly? Why was he always putting himself in these situations? His family had always drilled into him the need to have an out, and his only seemingly out was something that could easily get him murdered. He'd gotten comfortable. He couldn't make that mistake again, not with Jesse, who was easier to lead on than Hannibal. If it worked, if they got away, he needed to have a better plan next time.

 _If there is a next time_.

 

 

 

Which, of course, there wasn't, because there never was. Jesse's “plan” required skimming cash off of investments and stashing drug caches in places that they could collect. The drugs were cooked by Jaska, and sometimes by friends that Jesse swore up and down were trustworthy. Maybe they were, and it was just a fluke that Hannibal found out. Maybe someone had snitched. Eventually it didn't matter, because Hannibal angry was like a snowball pushed downhill.

Tendo found this out when he came back to the main trailer a little later than usual and found it empty. Considering the main trailer was were Hannibal, Jesse and he “lived” it usually had someone going in or out of it, or waiting, or sleeping a hangover off on the couch. It was never quiet and the silence was nervewracking.

Tendo shrugged his jacket off and strained his ears. The air buzzed and he felt like a sour weight had wrapped itself around his tongue, keeping him from calling out to see if anyone was home. Maybe they weren't; the old cliché said first time for everything, and maybe he was just being paranoid, because he could get really antsy real fast. Except Tendo knew when to give himself a little more credit than that, and he forced himself to creep back towards the bedroom he “shared” with Hannibal.

The door was cracked, and the only person he could see was Jesse, but he could hear Hannibal. The bastard never rolled alone and probably had at least one person in there, and Hannibal himself was built like a brick shithouse. Those facts kept Tendo from doing something incredibly stupid like pushing the door open but didn't stop him from leaning against the frame, covering his mouth and listening.

“I just want to know who you're working with,” Tendo couldn't see Jesse's face, but he could see the way he was hunched over facing Hannibal. “Just give me a _fucking_ name, just one name-”

Jesse cut him off with frantic laughter, and Tendo thought he might throw up. “Eat shit. Just...eat shit, dude.”

Hannibal was across the room in a heartbeat, his hands around Jesse's throat. Tendo's breath hitched so hard his chest hurt; without thinking, he slammed his shoulder into the door, threw his hands up and yelled, “ _Stop!_ ” Hannibal didn't let go immediately, but he looked up at Tendo. “Stop, _stop_ , what are you doing?”

Hannibal's nostrils flared but there was none of the same malice when he looked at Tendo. “What are you doing here?”

Tendo raised his hands to his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “What are you doing?” He repeated, voice quaking and lunch threatening to make a repeat appearance. Hannibal's good sense seemed to catch him and he dropped his hold on Jesse, letting the man fall to the ground. While the runner rolled onto his back and tried to catch his breath Hannibal stepped over him and to Tendo, putting a much gentler hand on his arm. “What are you doing here, sugar?” His other hand found the back of Tendo's head. “I thought I told you to go see Sing.”

“I did,” the reply was rough as chipped glass and apprehensive. “I did. I just got done. What are you doing to him?”

Hannibal looked back at Jesse and said, “This little shitdick's been skimming my fucking profits, and taking it for whatever fucking reason he's got. And I know he's too stupid to do it alone, but he won't give me any fucking names.”

“You were gonna kill him.”

“Probably,” Hannibal gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I'm sorry. I can't let him walk away from this, babe.”

Tendo opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Jesse's hoarse laugh. He'd rolled over and sat up on his knees. “Yeah, _sugar_ ,” his mouth was twisted into a deranged smirk. “Can't let me walk away from this one, _babe_.”

Hannibal dropped the hand he had on the back of Tendo's head and turned around. “What did you say?” Jesse licked his lips and laughed.

“What?” He cracked his jaw. “You think you're the only one who's been there?” The tone he used was mock-sweet and cruel. “Oh, he's such a good fuck, isn't he.”

Tendo felt like he'd been slammed by a compactor, his whole body tensed so quick and hard; Hannibal's grip on his arm tightened to the point that he cried out in pain and shock and lost his balance. “You did _what_?”

Jesse started to ramble, ignoring Hannibal's questions. “He cries. Oh, he cries, he's got this guilty conscience about it. Talks too much. “Don't, please” and “Hannibal will find out” and “no, no, it hurts”. Does he _ever_ say anything fun?” Hannibal's grip lessened enough to ease the pain but not the pressure, and Tendo let out a weak, “Jesse, _stop_ , please,” which in turn only made the dealer laugh harder. “Oh, I _forgot_ that one. Oh, don't look at me like that, princess,” he forced a rough laugh. “You know how hard it makes me. I'm gonna die anyway! Gotta get those sins out there, I wanna be _clean_ when I go, cos you sure ain't-”

Hannibal let Tendo's arm go and lunged; while the tech dropped to his knees and put his arms over his head, Hannibal wrapped his hands back around Jesse's throat. As he choked him, he smashed his head against the ground and screamed obscenities. Tendo blocked the sounds out and swallowed his terrified screams until he felt a hand on his back. It took every fiber in his body to not unfold and run at that instant, but Hannibal didn't try to peel him apart, didn't grab his hair or his arm or his throat. A hand was laid between his shoulder blades while another wrapped around his front and carefully pulled him to standing. The much bigger man guided him towards the living room, Tendo barely registering his order to the other two to clean up; he took Tendo away from it all, to the couch to sit down. It was with gentle hands and a careful grip that he guided Tendo to his lap.

The surreality of the situation was not lost, the fact that hands that had just coldly murdered one of his own and even hurt his boyfriend were the same ones attempting to bring comfort washing over Tendo like ice water. He couldn't bring himself to cry or to struggle against it, but he couldn't bring himself to cry either. Tears wouldn't wash away what had happened or what Jesse had done to protect him. They couldn't make Tendo feel like any less of a coward or a waste for letting it happen.


End file.
